Tears grew at the edge of the firmament, and i wiped away the fear of a never again sun. It was the crystalized feeling, the waves acting as middlemen to the light which guided you to my daily turmoils. It was in that moment I realized that eye was just the seer to a placement of watchful effigy. The world is the viewer and we are just the microorganisms, the germ within the bosom of life and the glare within the retina of the retaining layers. When there is a sense of wonder the seas recreate the flood over terrains of debris as we are humans being in the ocean of the sorrow she carried to labor. Is it justifying, the price we pay as veins became each contact we make when feet touch the grounded soil. Can the world still see all the plausible signs of an infection of infestation. The war on the environment is planted for Edible guidance. Yet it’s windows are dressed with bandages of restricted condemnation of Authentic Omnism. Now with the exception of the calm seas I see clearly, we are merely the inner workings of the eye of the world moving as light and reflection Amalgamate in Quietude. On my isle of isolation I touched the floor to another dimension, a plane where I stand before the perception that God is the eyes of the universe.